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>Blurb:>Teacher Angela Munso has lost control—of herspiraling life. She can control the fallout of recent news from whose loins shesprang as easily as she can her heart’s pitter-patter. To have feelings for aman who is everything she now wantsto hate? That’s the last straw! >Lt.Brock "Chance" Alexander’s arrogance baits Angela. And—he knows it.It’s never so obvious to him as when she lobs that insulting phrase at the sideof his head. She pushes all of his hot buttons. But, there’s one he dares herto touch—the one that pushes him out of her life.>>>>>>>

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>The calming view up and down the avenueput her in the zone to wash her anxieties down the drain. The departing taxi cleareda pathway. Angela's pace quickened until, unexpectedly, she nearly tripped overher own feet, instantly brought to a screeching halt by the magnificentiridescent motorcycle, chromed out and shining in front of Mrs. Thatcher’s.Emeralds to grass greens glinted depending on the slant of the sunraysstreaking through the tree limbs. If she had to guess who the visitor was,she’d speculate it was the wickedly handsome policeman—whom she’d just left,and who hoisted her as if she weighed no more than, as she spied him in the doorway,the saddlebags draped across his shoulder.>>Astagnant breeze tickled wisps of hair around her cheeks tempting her to smoothstrands behind each ear with a one-finger swoop. >Chanceheld the screened door to his aunt’s house ajar on his way out. He still hadtime to catch his club members at their scheduled rest stop during the firstleg of the weekend trip. As he said his goodbyes, a motion in the middle of thestreet lassoed his attention. He had high hopes of catching a glimpse of herbecause she manipulated his every thought since their encounter. > Glued to the spot, he stoodmesmerized by her beauty now indelibly branded on his brain.>>

Blurb:>Widow VeronicaTorres needs something desperately—invisibility. Escaping the clutches of herconniving brother-in-law and traveling incognito in the RV she traded foronline sets her on a collision course with her new destiny, and a barrelingfiery-red 18-wheeler.>>Trucker MikeMasterson steams at the close call. First, he nearly sideswipes her. Now, sheends up at the same rest stop with mechanical trouble. Maybe, she deserves tosweat it out in the June heat since she has the attention span the size of apea. But, the child in her company deserves better. What else can Mike do besidescart them to his garage for repairs?>>Will theirburgeoning relationship ignite more fireworks than the upcoming Fourth of Julycelebration? Or will the sparks of six nights and seven days of summertimesizzle—fizzle to an end?>

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The alarming blasts of quad-toned airhorns brought her attention back to the road and her position straddling thecenterline. Her panicked response was to jerk the wheel of the unfamiliar RV,causing an overcorrection. The behemoth swerved recklessly across the doublelanes, dragging the air out of her lungs with a squeal.>“What’s happening, Mama?” the littlevoice beside her asked.>“Hold on, Sam!” >The words wrung from her lungs sounded awarning, yet her soft voice held his fright at bay. The barreling 18-wheeler,with its oversized sizzling-red sleeper, whizzed by as if her tires were gummedto the highway. The close call struck more fear into Veronica than thelifelike, fang-bared, coiled snake illustrated on the back wall of the cab.>“Ooooh.” Her body shuddered.>The bulky truck minimized as itgradually disappeared to a gleaming red speck on the horizon. Her zigzaggingmotor home snaked along for a few more feet, propelled this way and that by thelag of its rear end. It took all she had not to shut her eyes, for she hatedsnakes with a passion. Real or illustrated, it didn’t matter.